Home Improvement
by Starlight05
Summary: John insists one of the walls of the flat needs to be repainted, and so he drags Sherlock to the hardware store to pick a color. Sherlock, of course, doesn't want to be there and makes things difficult. Will John succeed in his home improvement quest? And will Sherlock convince his blogger to use the color he unexpectedly wants?


**Hello! So this is a rather silly quick story that felt like it really needed to be written, so... yeah. Domestic life at 221B is just too darn fun! I hope you enjoy this; I certainly enjoyed writing it for you guys! Also, since it's the one year anniversary of The Reichenbach Fall's premiere, I figured we could all use a bit of silliness instead of sadness...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, or any of that. And trust me, if I did, we would have series three already. And maybe series four as well.**

**Anyway, on with the show!**

Home Improvement

oOOOo

"Hey, Sherlock, I've been thinking."

"Sounds dangerous," Sherlock muttered.

John ignored him. "I was thinking we need to repaint this wall."

Sherlock looked up from his floppy, sprawling position on the sofa, only half paying attention. "Why would we do that? It's fine!"

"No, Sherlock, look," John said, pointed to part of the light blue wall near the doorframe. "It's starting to peel here. If we don't fix it soon it'll get worse."

"Paint is just a detail," Sherlock muttered, laying his head back down.

"Maybe so, but it will look bad."

"So?"

"So we need to take care of the flat."

"Can't you do it?" Sherlock moaned.

John sighed. "If I went on my own to pick out paint, you'd complain about it because you don't like the shade or something."

Sherlock glanced up. "You're going to make me go no matter what, aren't you?"

"If you come, I won't complain about you not sleeping for a week."

Sherlock paused, considering the offer. "A month."

John hesitated, then scowled. "Two weeks."

They stared each other down for a moment. Finally, Sherlock sighed. "Okay, fine!"

oOOOo

"This is ridiculous," Sherlock grumbled again, pacing up and down the aisle of paint samples. His swishing coat contrasted sharply with the bright squares of color, making him look rather like a grumpy bat in a field of flowers.

"It's not ridiculous, Sherlock, it's how you choose a color you like," John replied patiently, holding up two shades of light green next to each other and eyeing them critically. "Now help me; I'd rather you were annoying now than after we actually paint the wall."

Sherlock sighed and looked half-heartedly at the samples. "Boring," he muttered under his breath, glancing at John to make sure he heard. The doctor frowned slightly, and Sherlock turned back to the paint.

Unexpectedly, his eyes fixed on one, a deep blue. He gazed at it, wondering why it appealed to him so much.

And then it hit him. This was the closest shade of paint the hardware store had to John's eyes. Sherlock mentally shook himself. Sentiment didn't suit him.

He turned to John anyway and held up the color. "What about this one?"

John turned, his own hands holding at least a dozen squares. He raised his eyebrows. "That one? Why?"

Sherlock shrugged. "It's better than all those you're holding," he said with a sneer.

"Okay Sherlock." John sounded irritated. "If you're just trying to make this difficult-"

"That is what I usually do."

"Fine!" John snapped, sick of having to deal with the childish behavior of his flatmate. "We don't really need to paint anyway; the wall will survive a while!"

He tossed the samples down and stormed away. Sherlock watched him go, a faint twinge of remorse coursing through him. He had been rather annoying lately, and John's work had been stressful. Maybe he shouldn't have goaded him.

Sherlock shrugged. At least they could leave now, he thought as he went after John, slipping the blue sample into the pocket of his coat.

"John?" he called as he darted after him, ignoring the disgruntled customers he barreled past. "Wait!"

The doctor glanced at him, his expression still faintly irritated.

"What?" Sherlock asked defensively.

"The deal's off," John told him shortly.

Sherlock was bewildered. "What deal?"

"You probably deleted it," John muttered as they exited the store and headed in the direction of nearby Baker Street. "I promised not to complain about your sleeping habits, remember? Well, deal's off."

Sherlock paused, disappointment crossing his face. He had really been looking forward to not hearing John's lectures. Because of course he hadn't deleted it... Nonsense...

He shook himself mentally. "But I came, didn't I?" he pointed out as they crossed the street.

"Yeah, but no paint," John countered, holding up his empty hands. "So no paint, no deal."

Sherlock knew he couldn't win against the ex-soldier, so instead of trying he looked into the distance with a pouting expression.

"Fine," he finally conceded. "But next time, you really should ask beforehand if there's paint stored below the sink to repair the walls."

And he couldn't help but snicker as his words sunk in, and as John started to splutter indignantly, he went on ahead of his annoyed blogger, laughing his way back to the flat.

**Hahaha, so there you have it! I hope it brightened your day!**

**Read and be merry, my friends :) And please review! **


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